December 20, 2000
Yet Another Christmas Entry
This holiday spirit thing seems to be going quite far enough already. Every single Christmas song I hear lately is making me cry. It's happy crying, but still. Well, mostly happy crying. Just sort of... over-emotional crying. This morning I was watching the Today show before work, and a choir was on singing "We Wish You A Merry Christmas". Sure enough, there went two tears down my cheeks. Granted, it was a lovely choral arrangement, but why on earth would figgy pudding make me cry? Even Max was looking at me strangely.
Then driving to work, I heard a version of "Silent Night" by the Barenaked Ladies and Sarah McLachlan. Same thing. My emotions are all so very close to the surface right now. Not in a needy "here I am, love me!" sort of way, but in an alive, aware sort of way. I feel like my senses are nearly as heightened as my emotions are, stretching out beyond the boundaries of me to really experience the world outside.
There is so much beauty in the world. That sounds so trite, but I feel like I'm seeing it all for the first time -- which sounds even more trite. Ever notice how hard it is to put happy feelings into words? I can describe sadness. I can detail the fall of each tear, each pang of hurt, but the sight of a winter sunrise as I'm getting ready to leave for work leaves me wordless and fumbling. I've been taking pictures like mad, hoping to hold on to and recreate the sense of joy I feel from day to day right now.
This sort of quiet happiness scares me. Giddiness, hyper running-around-yelling-"YIPPEE!" sort of happiness doesn't scare me. It's the emotional equivalent of a sugar high. You know it can't last, so you revel in it while it's around then let it go with the usual slump afterwards. This quiet, content joy... it could last. It's not an energy-draining sort of thing. Quite the opposite. Everything feels energized, renewed. And when it goes, it drains away, like a slow loss of blood. You don't feel it until you're left tired and lifeless and trying to figure out what happened. So I guess, actually, the first sentence of this paragraph isn't true. The happiness itself doesn't scare me; losing it does.
I suppose that could be where the odd mix of emotions comes in. At times this is a tentative joy. I feel like I'm walking on the surface of a lake, uncertain just how strong the ice beneath my feet is.
Let me interject at this point: I've suddenly stopped and gotten really amused at the way this journal entry is going. "Hey, I'm really happy! Isn't that cool? It won't last though." That's so wrong. Let me leave it at this: I'm happy. I'm energized. I'm incredibly emotional about this holiday season, and I think that's a great thing. I'm going to try and quit predicting emotional disaster for myself.
Posted by Lisa at December 20, 2000 11:26 AM
